And there it was.

Given Sir Eustace’s manner, Jasper wasn’t entirely surprised by the rejection. He nevertheless stiffened at the callous way in which the baronet had delivered it. “May I ask why I’m to be refused?”

Sir Eustace tucked away his handkerchief. “You aren’t suitable for my daughter.”

“If this has anything to do with my natural children—”

“I haven’t an issue with your bastards. A man must sow his wild oats. Though you’d be advised to put them somewhere else before you wed. No female wishes to share a home with a whore’s leavings.”

Jasper’s voice turned cold. “What is your objection, then?” he asked. “Is it to do with my war record?”

Aside from the children, it was the only truly objectionable thing about him. His evil history. A blackened past no amount of goodness and decency could ever hope to erase. He was destined to spend the rest of his life atoning for it.

The irony didn’t escape him.

“I don’t object to your conduct in the Crimea,” Sir Eustace said. “Had I been an officer—and I would have been one of exceedingly high rank if my health had permitted it—I’d have ruled my men with an iron fist. It’s the only way one can turn common rabble into soldiers, is it not? Floggings and other punishments. Wellington himself once said that a man is no soldier until he’s received fifty lashes.”

Jasper was vaguely aware that his right hand had clenched into a fist. He willed it to relax, opening his fingers one by one to lay flat on his thigh. Nothing could be gained by losing his temper. Certainly not with Miss Wychwood’s father. Like most gentlemen, safe at home during the war, the baronet had no idea what he was talking about.

“No, no,” Sir Eustace went on, wheezing. “It isn’t your military history that makes you ineligible. It’s your choice of residence. As if I would ever permit my daughter to remove to Yorkshire! Her place is in London. She’s needed here by her mother and myself. We’re too ill to spare her. Any gentleman she weds must reside in town.”

Realization sunk in slowly. Jasper was loath to accept it. “And that’s your only requirement?”

Sir Eustace didn’t appear to see anything odd in this. “It is, sir.”

“I would think, given your daughter’s lack of offers, you might be more willing to entertain my suit. After two failed seasons—”

“You’re mistaken. My daughter has had several offers these past years. All by gentlemen who would take her away from here. Naturally, I refused them out of hand. Just as I must refuse you.” Sir Eustace stood. “I’ve already given my permission to Lord Gresham. He’s refurbishing his house in Grosvenor Square and has pledged to reside in town all the year round. It will suit Lady Wychwood and I to a nicety.”

Jasper slowly rose to his feet. He felt a peculiar numbness at his core. It was directly at odds with his burgeoning sense of outrage.